Remember the Alamo: The Persistence of Myth

A vivid memory from my childhood is a birthday party in which my wish for Davy
Crockett merchandise was granted. I trotted off to a small Texas Panhandle school
with Davy Crockett lunch box, coonskin cap, buckskin shirt, and replica of Crockett's
musket, affectionately named "Ole' Betsy." Until late in the evening,
I would reenact Crockett's last stand at the Alamo; a most unusual childhood game
culminating in the heroic fantasy death of myself and my playmates. Of course,
we all insisted on portraying the defenders of the Alamo, while the Mexican forces
of General Lopez de Santa Anna remained only imaginary characters.

I was totally invested into the mythical America created by Walt Disney's
version of the Davy Crockett. Courageous Anglo pioneers had to wrest the West
from treacherous Indians and Mexicans in order the preserve the region for American
liberty and freedom. This simplistic 1950s Disney history lesson was supplemented
by John Wayne's epic film The Alamo; as well as a cartoon Texas history
textbook--originally sponsored by the Mobil Oil corporation during the late
1920s but still in use during the 1960s--whose pages were dominated by racial
caricatures of tall Anglo Texans and short, swarthy Mexicans.

The experience of the civil rights movement, Vietnam War, breakdown of the
post World War II consensus, and an advanced degree in history convinced me
to put away my childish notions regarding the Alamo. With the release by Touchstone
Pictures of director John Lee Hancock's 2004 version of The Alamo, the
Disney Corporation offers evidence that the corporate giant is also capable
of some intellectual growth and development. Hancock's film offers a far more
complex portrait of the Texas struggle for independence than that offered by
Fess Parker as Davy Crockett during the 1950s.

The current Alamo film continues to focus upon the defenders of the Alamo
exemplified by the triumvirate of Crockett (Billy Bob Thornton), William Travis
(Patrick Johnson), and Jim Bowie (Jason Patric). Nevertheless, the filmmakers
recognize that there is more to the story than these three men. For example,
the fact that the forces within the fortress included Hispanics who supported
Texas independence is often overlooked in Alamo mythology. Hancock's The
Alamo acknowledges the role played by Juan Seguin and the Tejanos, or Texas
Mexicans, but they are relegated to a supportive and somewhat passive status;
reminiscent of how Hollywood films such as Mississippi Burning place
African Americans in a secondary position for the civil rights movement. The
story of the Tejanos and their betrayal by Anglo Texans would make for an interesting
film.

The Alamo also provides a broader cultural perspective in the treatment
of its Mexican characters. Mexican residents of San Antonio are shown in a sympathetic
light as they seek to avoid being caught in the crossfire of the two armies.
The Mexican soldiers are not all depicted as fanatical warriors bayoneting the
Texans. There is an effort to show young Mexican soldiers dying tragically and
bravely for their country. Several Mexican officers are treated as honorable
and dignified characters; although one who tends to engage in hero worship of
Crockett is a bit much.

Nevertheless, the only Mexican who is really developed in the film is the
rather diabolical figure of General Lopez de Santa Anna (Emilio Echevarria),
who is depicted as arrogant, vain, cruel, cowardly, and lustful. Santa Anna's
historical legacy does not necessarily deserve a more revisionist treatment,
but focusing upon the general/dictator does not allow for a broader survey of
the Mexican side. As the film suggests, Santa Anna was quick to execute those
who rose in rebellion against him, but he also conscripted many poor young Mexican
peasants into the army that assaulted the Alamo. Telling the story from their
point of view would certainly provide a unique perspective. Instead, the Mexicans
and Santa Anna are presented as the more powerful force against a ragged bunch
of Texans, who lack the uniforms, firepower, and numbers of the invading forces.
Of course, the Texans fighting ostensibly to protect their homes prevail in
the long run with victory at San Jacinto. Perhaps there is some lesson here
for any occupying power to consider.

While the film does attempt to provide some glimpse into the Tejano role and
a more humane treatment of the Mexicans, it does little to explain the reasons
for the Texas Revolution. Viewers are primarily presented with clichés
about liberty from Travis and Sam Houston (Dennis Quaid), but the history of
Texas as a Mexican province is not developed. Anglo settlement on Mexico's northern
frontier had been encouraged with land grants; however, Mexican authorities,
concerned about Anglo desires to affiliate with the United States, attempted
to centralize control during the 1820s. In addition to enforcing Catholicism,
the Mexican government outlawed slavery. Thus, one of the great ironies of the
Texas Revolution is that the Texans were fighting for their natural right to
hold other people in bondage.

This state of affairs is only alluded to in the film by two slaves who discuss
the possibility of freedom under Mexican rule. Yet, no Anglo character expounds
upon this explosive issue, which led the United States to delay annexing Texas
until 1844. The annexation of Texas contributed to the Mexican-American War and
the ensuing Civil War over slavery expansion.

The Alamo, however, does deserve some credit for suggesting that those
migrating to Texas had rather unsavory pasts and reputations; such as Travis's
desertion of wife and family or Houston's bouts with alcoholism. The film tends
to interpret the Texas Revolution as giving these men a chance at redemption.
Nevertheless, the bloody massacre of Mexican troops at San Jacinto and the atrocities
committed against Mexicans by Texas volunteers during the Mexican-American War
demonstrate that a bloody frontier legacy did not always represent a positive
outcome for these second chances.

Of all the Anglo characters developed in The Alamo, Crockett, in a
superb performance from Thornton, remains the most interesting. Thornton's Crockett
is a far more complex individual than the man introduced by Disney during the
1950s. This Crockett is clearly a man of ambition. He journeys to Texas after
losing a congressional election. Once regarded as a possible Whig presidential
candidate, he remarks to Houston, in an early scene set in Washington, that
Texas may need a president. When he arrives in Texas, Crockett is surprised
to find that Santa Anna is marching upon San Antonio. An obviously uncomfortable
Crockett states that he thought all the fighting was over. An introspective
Crockett goes on to explain that he is a prisoner of his own image as a warrior
created by newspapers and stage performers. His major military experience before
the Alamo was against the Creek Indians. The witnessing of a massacre removed
any illusions of war's grandeur. In fact, he concludes that David Crockett the
man might crawl over the wall and desert the Alamo, but Davy Crockett the legend
simply could not take that course of action.

And in the conclusion of the film, the Disney studio appears to become a hostage
to its own legacy. In previous film versions of the Alamo, Crockett is always
the last man standing. Consulting previously overlooked Mexican sources, many
historians now maintain that Crockett was probably captured and executed by
the Mexicans. Some accounts suggest that Crockett may have even bargained for
his life. In the Hancock film, Crockett is given an opportunity to beg that
he be spared. The former Tennessee congressman seems to contemplate pleading
for his safety, and then he notices a young Mexican boy wearing a coonskin cap;
reminding Crockett of the image which he cannot escape. Crockett bravely confronts
Santa Anna and forfeits his life. It is almost as if the Disney studio decided
that it was also the prisoner of its Crockett past and could not relinquish
the heroic frontier image which it had so profitably exploited.

While the "Freedom Alliance," founded by Oliver North, asserts that
The Alamo is "destroying a traditional hero," the Touchstone
film should be congratulated for departing from the more juvenile portrayals
of Crockett and the Alamo by offering multiple perspectives on this complex
historical narrative. The Alamo is hardly the definitive version it
would like to be; however, in alluding to Tejanos, the Mexican perspective,
and the slavery issue, this film does indicate that there are rich veins still
to be mined in the multi-faceted story of the Alamo. And those who would like
to redress the atrocities of 9-11 with military expeditions around the globe--and
there is no indication that the current Texan President George W. Bush is as
concerned with Alamo analogies as was Lyndon Johnson during the Vietnam War--would
do will to remember the troubled legacy of the Alamo. It would behoove us to
remember the real rather than the mythical Alamo.

More Comments:

lauren fonseca -
5/31/2005

I am glad to hear that you want to remember the real rather then the mythical Alamo, I am unsure of a few views but will look into it. I am Mexican American, a Tejana and learned that Texans were brave heroes, defending themselves from these savage Mexicans, and Native Americans, which, a lot of Mexicans are mixed Native American and Spaniard European. I always look at different perspectives and do some studying before I come out and say things, and correct myself if in error. I am a Tejana. There is a book called Tejano roots and i forgot the name of the author but am going to research it.
I just want to learn truths and facts, not lies. I think that many Mexican Texans were wanting to be independent from Mexico, but not under United States government either.

Kevin M Gannon -
4/21/2004

As shady and shifty (and ruthless) a character that Santa Anna was--and certainly his conduct in the Texas Revolution is worthy of condemnation--the leading Texas revolutionaries were hardly paragons of moral virtue. Probably the most stinging indictment of the proslavery nature of the Texas Revolution is Benjamin Lundy's journals of his travels through Texas, where he details the fierce desire of the Anglo Texans to protect thei "peculiar institution"--regardless of the fact every Anglo settler was required to swear an oath of loyalty to the Mexican government and its laws. The Mexican constitution of 1824 outlawed slavery, and an 1829 decree from president Anastasio Bustamante confirmed this mandate. One only needs to look at the letters of someone like Mirabeau Lamar (Georgia slaveholder-turned-second president of Texas) to see the anglocentric nature of Texans' "nationalism." And the shady way in which the territory was annexed into the US only serves as further confirmation of how the proslavery issue permeated the "Texas question."

William A. Henslee -
4/21/2004

I suggest that historians wanting to hear the Mexican side of the Texas Revolution read "The Mexican Side of the Texas Revolution by the Chief Mexican Participants" by Carlos Casteneda editor and translator.

Generals such as Filesole and Urrea and other officers and aides published broadsides against Santa Anna for his conduct of the war, especially as regarding the execution of prisoners.

While some of this could be CYA hind sight, something US politicians do as well, the fact remains that they produced documentation to lay most of the blame on Santa Anna for his feckless leadership, misguided strategies, and ruthlessness.